


It's not a Cape

by DestielsDestiny



Category: Captain America (Movies), Doctor Strange (2016), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternative Energy, Avengers Family, Avengers Feels, Avengers Tower, BAMF T'Challa (Marvel), Because civil war broke my heart, Character Study, Clint Feels, Clint is snarky, Cloak Fetish?, Cloak of Levitation, Crack Treated Seriously, Doctor Strange fixes everything, Forgiveness, Future Fic, Gen, Healing, I can't write Stephen Strange, M/M, Meta, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Post-Civil War (Marvel), Saving the World, This should be crackier than it is, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-07-29 21:59:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7701292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestielsDestiny/pseuds/DestielsDestiny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony Stark absolutely doesn’t not have a Cloak fetish. Absolutely not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's not a Cape

**Author's Note:**

> AN: I own nothing. Inspired by that Cloak flip in the Doctor Strange trailer, because it’s all kinds of awesome. Less cracky than if probably has any right to be. Way too much use of the word friggin. No points for guessing who Tony’s boyfriend is, and not just because it’s in the tags ; )  
> No Trumps were harmed in the making of this fic.

Tony Stark absolutely does not have a Cloak fetish.

Contrary to popular belief, he never actually says that in an interview. 

He says it to Hawkeye, who then proceeds to repeat it in an interview. 

Tony has learned in the last few years that’s okay to not be ashamed of everything he’s ever been remotely called down for or criticized for in his life, but it took Clint six months to convince Laura not to take his kids away for following Cap to that Airport, and Tony can never quite bring himself to look the man straight in the eye and say F’off. 

So he flips the tabloid onto the breakfast table beside Nathaniel’s highchair and calls them even. 

Clint turns their handshake on it into an epic bro-hug of awesomeness, so Tony figures maybe they really are going to be okay one day. 

00

To be perfectly fair, Tony really doesn’t think anyone would have the right to comment even if he did have a frigging Cloak fetish. Because hello, have people seen the Cloak in question?!

Tony defies anyone who’s ever so much as laid eyes on the Cloak of Levitation to not be a little bit in love with it. The sunrise red colour, the deep, smooth furls of the otherworldly fabric. 

The ripple and snap as it moves in its own gusts of self-generated wind. The soft curl, whisper quiet, as it floats around a man’s shoulders. 

And those people have never even held the damn thing, never felt it brush across their cheek, never seen is bend and twist and submit to be ripped to bind their wounds. 

Never watched it staunch unstaunchable amounts of blood, whip out fires with a single flick, ride wind currents to the tops of buildings on a glass still day, carry the weight of at least six grown Avengers and a Hulk through frigging space itself. 

Tony bets everything he has that those people, who he knows must exist because the damn piece of clothing has its own Twitter page for goodness sake, to say nothing of the melee that hits fucking Tumblr every time so much as a scrap of red surfaces in an Avengers fight, that those people have never owed so much to anything as he owes to that piece of fabric and magic. 

Still, Tumblr. There’s a reason Tony switched to mostly gold and rust in his suits. 

But no, all that aside, Tony absolutely does not have a Cloak fetish. As awesome as the Cloak is, it’s still just a Cloak. 

And that, Tony will always insist, is all he has to say on the topic. 

00

Tony balances his bare feet carefully on the edge of the parapet overlooking the ornate _Avengers_ carved into the side of the Tower. The letters kept off getting blasted off, and even his building insurance is only so good. 

Tony’s head tilts back as he breaths in a lung full of crisp late night Manhattan air. It’s been nearly four years since T’Challa used the political mess that was the final burn out of the Accords to introduce clean energy contracts of all things, contracts that both cleaned up most of the world’s pollution problems in one fell swoop, and would have turned Tony from a billionaire into a zillionaire, if Tony hadn’t had absolutely zip interest in making that a thing and donated the stocks back into their own projects. It cut down the clean up by nearly a year. 

Tony doubts he will every forgive himself for Ultron, but on some days, like the day he watched his bank account trickle down just a few digits, he doubts it a little less. 

Donald Trump had turned right around and coined that zillionaire title anyway, and while Tony feels he should feel badder about using that as a reason to wreck a man’s life, that little doctored proof of alien DNA had shocked the world by really not being as important to the general public as the things the man said about Women, Aliens, Humans, and everything and anything in general finally being a little too much for this new world they’re all attempting to forge. 

Tony feels the air behind him whisper just slightly, the nearly silent scrape of booted feet meeting dura-concrete. Expensive as hell, but Bruce finally agreed that the Hulk was allowed to Birdy Watch as much as he wanted after Tony used dropping the Hulk Buster on it to prove the roof is more likely to reduce things to a pulp than get reduced to a pulp itself, so even Pepper agreed it was definitely worth every penny. 

A faint tremor runs through the hand which descends to caress Tony’s shoulder, a forearm wrapping around his stomach, a slightly scratchy chin brushing his exposed neck. 

A flap of velvety red brushes past his cheek. Tony relaxes lazily backwards into a stone wall of abs, letting his feet dangle precariously a hundred floors up, just to feel the never-gets-old-novelty of his boyfriend honest to goodness levitating them both several feet backwards. 

A deep chuckle thrums through Tony’s back, but the night air remains otherwise peaceful and still, and Tony allows himself a small sigh. Apparently he’s becoming predictable. 

Tony shivers in the chilly air, despite the gentle heat of the man wrapped around his shoulders and waist. They fit together like a pair of arrogant, facial hair obsessed puzzle pieces according to Hawkeye junior. Wow that kid takes after his father. 

Scratchy beard nuzzles into scratchy beard. “You know better than to appear out of doors in the chill without a coat Mr. Stark.”  
Tony flops his head backwards with a groan, mouth muffled by obligingly movable Cloak fabric. 

“I missed you, but go away.” A firm ghost of a kiss finds his forehead, a sweet chuckle passing his eyelids with a shiver. 

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Tony sometimes suspects his boyfriend’s voice is deeper than the Grand Canyon. He’ll have to ask Cap when he drags Bucky back from their fifth visit to the park this year. It’s currently February. 

Tony turns on frigid feet, sweeping his arms around a firm waist, gliding fingers across broad shoulder blades, trembling hands sending comforting shivers through his own flesh. 

Snapping blue eyes regard him, a regal face somehow pulling off the fact its owner is currently wearing mismatched Hulk and Ironman pajamas under his freaking blood red cape. 

_It’s a Cloak._ And oh yeah-Tony feels Erik Lensherr should have given him a little more warning about the dangers of dating a telepath.

 _You look ridiculous._ Two can play this game. 

Another chuckle. _Yes, they can._ And wow, Mr. loves-wearing-pajamas-to-save-the-world even has a deep mental friggin chuckle. Tony hates his life. 

_No you don’t._ Okay, first of all, Tony has quite a bit of visual evidence to prove that name is a thing, and various press outlets have even more he’s sure, because it really is a thing. Tony’s personal favourite was the time Mr. Wears-A-Red-Cloak-into-Battle with Victor frigging Von Doom showed up to a battle wearing nothing but said cloak and Bucky Bear pajama bottoms. 

He never gets to comment though, since he was wearing matching Cap ones under his Suit. 

And second of all, yeah okay, point, because Tony really doesn’t hate his life.

He drops his head against the soft edges of a Hulk cuddling an Iron Man, a shaking hand thumping the back of his head slightly as dented fingers card through his hair. 

He doesn’t hate his life. In fact, for the first time in possibly ever, he almost kind of loves it. 

00

Tony absolutely doesn’t have a Cloak fetish. Or crush. Or anything else. 

The man who wears it on the other hand…well, that’s just between him and Tony. 

And their ten million twitter stalkers slash fans. 

And bizarrely, in this new world they’re all figuring out how to build with their bare hands, they wouldn’t have it any other way.


End file.
